Light and Dark
by trunks111
Summary: gothStanButters. Slash. He wants what he thinks he can't have. He walks in the dark, the one he wants, in the light. So much has changed. He feels alone despite being surrounded by his friends. His thoughts are getting darker, but he doesn't know if he wants to stop it. Can he be honest with himself and pursue his own happiness or will he let his self-doubt control him?
1. Deep Thoughts

'I'd trade everything for you,  
Just name your price.  
I'll give everything,  
Just because.  
My fears are irrelevant,  
Cause I have to take care of yours.  
My feelings don't matter,  
You are my priority.  
If I could have one thing,  
Put simply...;  
It would be you.'

'Fuck,' Raven thought, 'Why the hell does this keep happening? Everything I try to fucking write comes out all whiney and fuckin' emo. I don't even know who this is about!'  
Except, he did know. He simply didn't want to admit it. With a groan, he flipped to the next page in his notebook and prepared to write something else, something he could share with the goth kids.

'When you let the darkness in your soul,  
You see the world for what it is.  
In the dark,  
You can be sure.  
It may suffocate you,  
but it won't betray you.'

There. That was better. He grimaced, still not like his usual quality. He shook his head and leaned back in his chair, digging his cigs out of his pocket and lighting one. After the first drag, he got up and opened the window, slumping down to rest his elbows on the sill and gaze out at the snow covered ground.  
So many years had passed.  
He flicked ash out the windown.  
Sixteen now, he had grown significantly, he was around 5'8 now. He was lean, slightly muscled, but not buff. His black hair sometimes hung down into his eyes just barely, but he still generally wore his black hat. He worked odd jobs around South Park to pay for his type of clothes because his mom refused to spend that much on the clothes he preferred to wear. He didn't mind, he was thinking about getting a proper part-time job.  
He dressed primarily in Tripp pants and different goth or dark band shirts.

He could remember still, hanging out with Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny. What good friends they used to be. Sometimes, it made him a little sad. His cynicism though, was too much for Kyle especially. The goth kids..., his new friends, they didn't mind, they actually generally agreed with him.  
He sighed smoke, flicking ash again.  
As much as he missed his old friends, he knew he couldn't go back to them. He was..., too dark to fit in with them anymore. Kenny though, he still spoke with him on occassion, it was nice of him. He really spoke to everyone, so it wasn't like he was making a special exception or anything.

He wandered over to his computer and opened iTunes, selecting 'Day of the Dead' by Hollywood Undead, cranking the volume before wandering back over to the window.  
Softly, he sang along mostly to Danny's part, eventually sitting on the floor with his ciggarette hand out the window.

Next, Medicine also by Hollywood Undead began to play. He chuckled, blowing smoke from his nose, a trick Michael had taught him.

He sang along to that, a little louder, a grin on his face. His phone buzzed at him, just once, so it was probably a text. He dug it out of his pocket, and sure enough, it was. From Pete.  
Time to leave it seemed. He stood and went to his computer, closing everything and turning it off. He grabbed his notebook and iPod, putting his earbuds into his ears and turning it on, before he left his room.

His mom started to say something to him, he saw her, but she just turned around. His expression softened for a moment, he didn't want to hurt her. He knew a lot of his actions did, but..., he was just being himself. He looked away, the words to another poem starting to come. As he stood and waited for Michael to pick him up, he began writing, pulling a pencil from one of his pockets.

'I swear,  
to whatever gods there are,  
I'm only trying to do my best.  
I didn't ask for this,  
Just know,  
I do love you.'

He groaned, fucking emo shit again.  
Maybe I should be an emo then. He snickered to himself.  
Just then, Michael pulled up.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he smirked, climbing into the backseat with Henrietta and Firckle.

"Right," Firckle rolled his eyes.

Stan flipped him off with a grin.

He grabbed his crotch in response.

Raven wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Firckle just pointed.  
"Ew! Gross guys!" Henrietta screeched.

"Mm, c'mon, you know you'd love to see us doing it."

"Shuddup."

Raven and Firckle just grinned at each other. Henrietta was a lesbian, but for some reason, she really, Really dug gay guys. And yeah, they were gay. Raven had struggled with it for a long time, but Michael had told him it didn't change anything. Henrietta agreed, and Firckle, well he kissed him.  
They weren't together, but they were slightly more than friends. Pete was also gay, he had been the first one to come out, of them anyway. The real first person they all knew to come out, had been Butters, back in grade eight. The second person, was Kenny, who was bisexual.

They were heading into their junior year of highschool. Except for Firckle, he was going to eighth grade.

"C'mon man, share the tunes," Pete turned around, passing Raven the AUX cord.

He took out his earbuds and plugged the cord into his iPod, cranking the volume and pressing play.  
Ghost by Hollywood Undead began to play.

Together, they all quietly sang along, taking the role of the voice who closely matched their own.

He kept it on Hollywood Undead so they could continue doing that. Michael drove somewhat aimlessly, not that there were many places one could drive in South Park anyway.

Eventually, Michael asked, "So..., where are we going anyway?"

"Graveyard?"

"Nah, it's too early," he replied as he stopped at a red light.

"Let's get coffee," Raven suggested.

The others nodded along with his suggestion and they went to Tweek Bros, because at least there, they didn't get yelled at to buy something other than coffee.  
They got a table near the back, sending Pete to get the coffees. As they awaited his return, they each got out their notebooks.

Once he rejoined them, they began sharing their latest works.  
Firckle shared a picture he had drawn, it was a graveyard, lightning lighting the dark sky, and unmarked, plain headstones stretched in all directions.

Raven shared his second poem, the only non-emo one.  
"Fucking dark," Firckle commented.

"And yours wasn't?"

Firckle just grinned at him, taking a drink of his coffee. He sipped his own, hoping it had cooled some.

So they just sat there, observing the people that came and went. And Tweek, who stood behind the counter, twitching as usual. Not for the first time, Raven contemplating going and flirting with him, maybe taking him home. He thought about it, but he knew it would be wrong of him. Tweek wasn't the blond he wanted. Not even close really. He was about the same height, complexion, body type, and very, very sexual, but he wasn't the same person. He wasn't the one hisheart ached for.  
Fuck, with the emo shit again.

His grip tightened on his coffee cup, Firckle noticed, laying his hand on Raven's thigh. He glanced at him, his eyes cold. This didn't deter him though, he just offered a small smile, as if he understood. Hell, maybe he did, he had always been pretty secretive, as if he knew more than the ever let on.  
He was kind of like Kenny that way...  
Raven turned his thoughts from those things and focused on what Michael and Pete were talking about. Maybe he would take Firckle home, gods know the little fuck had tried and been trying for years now. It wasn't that he didn't like him, he just didn't want to use him like that. He respected him too much.  
Maybe tonight though, maybe it would be different.

He wound up taking Firckle home, nobody questioned it or said anything. He simply called to his mom as he went upstairs that his friend was staying over. He didn't bother sticking around to hear her reply. He just jogged up the stairs with Firckle close behind.  
It was late and he didn't feel like being awake anymore, so he shed his Tripps and shirt, leaving him in his boxers. He felt Firckle's eyes on him. He laid in the bed as Firckle shucked his own jeans and shirt, climbing into the bed next to him. He rolled over so he was facing the older teen.

Raven knew the unasked question, but neglected to answer, instead, closing his eyes and pulling the sheet over himself. He thought he heard Firckle sigh, but couldn't be sure. Nevertheless, the younger curled up next to him, beneath the sheet.  
It wasn't what either of them wanted, but it was something...


	2. Fuck It All

He woke first. Firckle had rolled over in the night and taken most of the sheet with him. Raven didn't mind, climbing out of the bed, trying not to disturb the younger boy. He glanced over his shoulder at him, he was still sleeping.  
Raven found clothes for the day and went to the bathroom across the hall, no one was up yet. He didn't bother with a shower, he just washed his face and put on his clean clothes.  
Long sleeves today. He sat on the toilet seat, pushing up the sleeve of one arm. He gazed down at the pale skin revealed. He had one of his many switchblades in his other hand. He could see the blue vein. He rested the cold blade against his warm forearm. Right beneath where the vein was slightly raised at his wrist. It would be so easy... He could feel something real for a while. Clear his head.  
Cause sure, he felt. But most of the time, it was all fucking jumbled. Nothing made sense. Or the times when he didn't feel, nothing appealed in the slightest. It was like he was walking around but he was gone.

A knock on the door jolted him from his thoughts.  
"Hurry up turd!"

It was Shelly. She probably had to get ready for work.  
"Just a sec," he called, pocketing his knife and tugging his sleeve down. He ran water over his hands and smoothed his hair down. He gazed at himself in the mirror a moment before he opened the door and slipped around Shelly.

Fuck, well at least now, he had some good shit to write about. After quietly shutting the door behind him, he sat in his chair and flipped to a new page in his notebook.

'As much as I feel nothing,  
I feel something.  
It doesn't make sense,  
But I can't help that.  
Desensitized by the lies of the world,  
Right?  
A hollow laugh from a cold soul.  
Why even fight?  
Just let it all burn.'

He gazed down at his work, his messy handwriting, it slanted backwards. That probably meant something about him, didn't it? He chuckled and flipped to another page.

'Sometimes,  
When I close my eyes  
I can see another me.  
I'm smiling, laughing,  
No longer in the dark.  
Is it a choice or a way of life?  
I think it was a choice.  
I couldn't stand to hurt them,  
So I left before I could.  
Instead, I'm the one hurting,  
Bleeding, so they don't have to.  
With this blood that gushes so freely,  
I'll write you a little poem.  
I'm full of a darkness,  
but I swear,  
It's beautiful here.  
I just wish I could share it with you,  
instead though,  
I'll just hold myself together,  
Wouldn't want to get any of my blood on your hands...'

Well fuck. He closed the notebook, spinning in his chair. Firckle was sitting up now, rubbing his eyes.  
He got out of bed and dug in his pants for his ciggarettes. Once he found them, he took one out and lit it.

"Fuck...," he muttered, stumbling slightly as he redressed himself in yesterday's clothes.

"This sucks," he groaned.

"It always does," Raven replied with a slight smile.

With him awake now, Raven spun around and turned his computer on, playing Hollywood Undead once it started up completely.

"What is it with you and that band?" The younger asked as he returned from the bathroom.

"They're awesome."

"Pfft."

Raven rolled his eyes and scrolled through his collection to find something the younger teen would find agreeable. Eventually, he settled on 'March of Mephisto' by Kamelot.  
"Better," Firckle smirked, flopping down on Raven's bed.

Raven stood, walking to the door.  
"Want anything to eat?"

"Sure," he shrugged.

Raven nodded and jogged down the stairs. He could hear the tv in the living room, his dad was likely already or still drunk from the the night before and watching the news. His lip curled in disgust, but he continued to the kitchen, trying to think of what Firckle would want. So with practiced ease, he scrambled four eggs and seasoned them slightly, then grabbed two bananas. He took the food and a couple of forks upstairs. They could find drinks later. The others would likely want to meet for coffee in a few hours.

They were eating in relative silence, Firckle hadn't even made a sexual joke about the banana yet.

"So..., you like Tweek then?"

Raven nearly choked.  
"Wh-what? What the hell makes you say that?"

"You invited me over. You were gazing at him, a lot. Like you always do."

Calmly, the other boy took another bite of his eggs.

"No. I don't like Tweek."

"If you say so," Firckle responded after a moment.

Raven grit his teeth and said nothing, it's not like he would tell him who he _did_ like. And even then, Firckle had crushed on him for years. Raven knew he wanted to be the center of the older male's affections.  
"Hmmm, whoever it is..., is likely blond though," he mused after the silence had stretched between them for a while.

"Firckle... Shut. Up."

"So I'm right," his eyes lit.

"No...," he took a calming breath, "I just want you to shut up before I ruin that pretty little face of yours."

"Haha," Firckle laughed, laying on his stomach.

That was one of the things about Firckle. He never took threats seriously. He had never seen Raven angry. Micheal, Pete, and Henrietta, they had. And so had his old friends. It had gotten worse as he got older though.  
Rage was one of the few emotions that could actually penetrate his emotionless state. The hard part, was coming down from it though. And he didn't want to beat the shit out of Firckle. He was a friend; a good fucking friend.  
Therefore, it would be a good idea for him to calm down.

"Get out," Raven said, getting up and grabbing the remnants of their breakfast.

"What?" the laughter had left his voice.

"You heard me."  
He left the room without another word.

Firckle would do it, he'd be confused and perhaps a little hurt, and maybe even go to Pete with his concerns, but it was for the best. After washing the dishes, Raven grabbed a can of soda from the fridge and returned to his room. He turned the music up louder and took a ciggarette from the pack in his nightstand drawer. He stood in the middle of the room and light it, hand cupped around the flame. He opened the window, standing leaning on his hands, gazing outside but not really seeing anything.  
He groaned.  
It wasn't right, what he had done. Getting that angry, kicking him out to walk home. He inhaled before exhaling through his nose. Fuck. Fuck it all. Right?


	3. Argument

A few hours later, like he thought, his friends sent him a text, saying to meet at Tweek bros. He stuffed his notebook, pencil, and a few energy bars into his drawstring bag before shouldering it. He took another glance around his room before he left.  
He walked it, hands shoved into his pockets, listening to music.  
A few songs later, he arrived, the only one that wasn't yet present was Henrietta. He went to grab a coffee before rejoining his friends. He sat beside Michael. Soon, Henrietta joined them, sitting beside Pete on the other side. There were few rustling sounds as they each withdrew their notebooks.

"So Raven, you gonna share with everybody who it is you're crushing on?" Firckle had a smirk, it was obvious from his eyes..., he had been crying.  
Pete even looked slightly pissed as he gazed across at him.

"It's none of your or their business."

"So you admit there is someone," he grinned slyly.

Raven neglected to respond, instead taking a sip of his coffee, flipping the pages of his notebook, to find his newest stuff.

"I already know he's blond," Firckle taunted.

"Firckle, man, maybe you should lay off," Michael advised, glancing worriedly at Raven.

"I just wanna know who this blond guy is, Raven writes some pretty intense stuff about him." That wasn't true, but Firckle was trying to get a rise out of him.

"Listen to him," Raven muttered through his gritted teeth.

The others were looking at Firckle, silently begging him to stop, they all knew he most likely wouldn't. He rarely did, it was the reason he got into so many fights, and usually lost. He didn't know when to quit, or if he did, he simply didn't care.

"C'mon, just tell us who he is. It's not a big deal," he leaned forward, his eyes locked with Raven's.

"Fuck you," Raven growled, sliding out of the booth and stalking away.

"I want you to!" Firckle called.

His cheeks burned at that remark, but he kept walking, it was best he put distance between them.

He walked aimlessly but for some reason, his feet carried him to _his_ house. He stood on the street, gazing up at the window that he knew was to his room. He stared up at it, trying to imagine what it would be like for him to go over to the door, knock, and talk to him. He wouldn't really know what to say. Sure, they had kind of been friends when they were kids, and yeah, he always thought about what he'd said that one day outside of Raisins.  
"A kind of beautiful sadness."  
Those words had haunted him since the day he heard them. Despite those words though, he remained a goth kid. He let the darkness in him win.  
He sighed, Butters..., he couldn't imagine the blond liking him. Not in that way.

He looked away from the window, stomping his feet a little. They were cold. He must have been standing there longer than he had thought. With another sigh, he began the walk back home. He was listening to Dark Places by Hollywood Undead. Hands shoved into his pockets and head down, he made his way through the quickly darkening town.  
He jogged up to his room, going to change into his bed time clothes before going back downstairs to make himself something to eat. Once he returned upstairs, he finally checked his phone. He had multiple messages from everyone except Firckle, who had only sent him one.

He checked Firckle's first, "Sorry," was all it said. He had probably done that at the insistence of the others.  
Mostly the messages were apologizing for Firckle, asking if he was okay, asking where he was, and since they hadn't gotten replies they just told him to let them know if he was all right.  
He replied to them, saying he was fine, he had simply lost track of time, but he was back at his house now, and to let him know if they wanted to hang later that night or tomrrow.  
Pete eventually sent him a text, checking that Firckle had apologized.  
Raven finished his food and disposed of the dishes before going back to his room and hopping on his computer. He put his earbuds into his ears and opened iTunes. After pushing 'Play', he went on the internet, surfing facebook for a bit before going over to bewild, looking at the Tripps he wanted to get.

Pete messaged him on FaceBook.

Pete: Hey, we're going to the graveyard in like an hour. Michael will be picking everyone up about a block from their house.

Raven: All right. Do I need to bring anything?

Pete: If you want to. Not sure houw long we'll be staying.

Raven: I have work tomorrow.

Pete: Oh right. They finally scheduled you?

Raven: Yeah. Eight hour day too. For the next few days. We're hoping to get the building back up. Might take a whole week, depeding on the weather.

Pete: Well fuck man. You still going to hang with us?

Raven: Yeah, I'll meet you guys at Tweek bros before they close each night, we can at least grab a drink then go hang at the graveyard.

Pete: Sounds good. I'll let the others know about your work.

Raven: Thanks man.

And with that, he got off his computer, going instead, to lay down a while before Michael came for him. He would have to redress. He groaned softly, but found a new pair of boxers, some Rude skinny jeans, and a Avenged Sevenfold hoody. He found a pair of socks and tugged them on, before going to his bed and sitting down again. He found his iPod and strung his earbuds down his shirt.  
Soon, his phone buzzed, indicating he had a message. It was Pete, telling him Michael was there.  
He stuck his head out of his room, listening intently for a few minutes. The house was largely quiet, he crept down the hall, listening down the stairs. He could hear the tv and drunken snoring.  
Typical.  
He crept down the stairs and out the front door.


	4. Anger

Over the days of working, he was largely too tired to contribute much to the conversations with his friends, instead, he sat there and sipped his coffee, listening to them. Lost in his own thoughts. Events from the work-day clouded his thoughts. Some of the older construction workers felt they could order him around, even though they weren't the supervisor or anyone else important. They often called him things like, "fag", "pussy", or "dumbass". The last didn't bother him as much as the others, but even so, he got into a yelling match on more than one occasion. His tempter boiling.  
He was still angry about it. Just sitting there, at Benny's, he longed to get up and punch something. Instead, he slouched in the booth, the upper half of his torso just barely being over the tabletop. Henrietta was trying not to laugh at his position, but he didn't mind that.

He was thinking about Michael. He had anger too. Together, they would work some of it out. Probably not in the best way, but it worked well. They sparred. In Michael's basement or out in Raven's backyard. There was just something satisfying about hearing the smack of flesh on flesh. Of feeling pain blossom in your cheek or abdomen.  
He chuckled darkly, at which his friends looked over at him.

"Wanna share?" Firckle snickered.

"Just thinking about pain," he shrugged.

"Oh," Firckle blushed really bright, his eyes falling.

Seconds later, Raven's eyes widened once he realized what he said sounded like and how Firckle likely took it and probably the others too.  
"Oh fuck, not like that kind. Just..., how good it feels to get hit."

Fuck, if that wasn't worse, he groaned, hanging his head.

"Wow Raven, I never knew you liked it like that," Henrietta grinned.

"Fuck, no, no, that is not at all!" he protested as Pete and Henrietta just kept snickering.

He sat up and slouched forward, head in his hands.  
"You guys are fuckers," he muttered.

"But..., you're still here," Henrietta taunted.

"Ah fuck you."

"You know I don't roll that way. I'll watch, you fuck a guy though," she laughed.

"I'm not an exhibitionist," he sighed, Henrietta had been pushing to watch at him and Pete for ages.

"Ah, but I am a voyuer," she smiled.

He shook his head, his mood had elevated afterall. Though his anger was still there, perhaps he and Michael could spar tomorrow.  
Raven dug in his pocket for his phone and shot Michael a text, before getting his notebook out of his bag.  
The others chatted about things as they had before, Firckle finally no longer red in the face.

'I'm angry,  
I always have been.  
It's only gotten worse, the older I've gotten.  
This anger,  
Will never leave.  
Everything fades,  
Everyone leaves,  
but I will always have my anger.  
It keeps me warm at night.  
Because when I had nothing and no one,  
I always had my anger.'

He sighed after rereading it. It was incredibly blunt. Not at all like he usually wrote. He didn't even bother hiding that it was about himself. No real flowery language, just blunt, this is how it is.

He flipped to the next page and began again.

'I have a lot of anger.  
It's not all directed at myself though.  
A lot of it is,  
But no, not all.  
Some of it is for this corrupt and rotting Society.  
Some of it is for what could have been,  
What should have been.  
Some of my anger...,  
Is undeserved.  
Some of it is misguided.  
Just because I know that,  
Doesn't mean I can change it.  
It's still there.  
I think it always will be.  
It's a matter of control,  
Not losing it.  
Keeping oneself in perfect control,  
A tight wire to be walked every day.'

"Well fuck," he muttered glaring at the paper.

"What's up?" Henrietta asked, turning her attention from Pete and Firckle to him.

Wordlessly, he flipped back a page and passed the notebook to her. She in turn, passed it to Firckle, who passed it to Pete, and lastly, to Michael.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Henrietta ventured, looking at him with obvious concern.

He sighed, taking his hat off and running his hands through his hair.  
"Not..., not really," he admitted, "I'd rather just have it out with Michael and be done with it. Well, as done as one can be with it."

"Well let's go then," Henrietta declared.

Raven glanced at Michael who simply nodded, passing the notebook back to him.  
He slid out of the booth as he put his notebook back into his bag. They left payment on the table and filed out.

Michael drove them back to his house, where they silently walked through the house and down to the basement. There was a cleared space, the basement was comprised of a few rooms. One, they set aside for their fighting.

They both shed their shoes, gloves, and Raven his hat.  
Standing across from one another, they simply stared, waiting for one of them to make the first move.

They circled each other, this was a familiar dance. The question was, who would come away with victory this time?  
Michael lunged first, Raven sidestepped and caught his forearm, gently tossing him to the side with a slight spin, using Michael's momentum against him. He skidded to a halt a few feet away as Raven then charged him, crouching and going for a feet sweep which Michael of course jumped over and had a kick aimed at Raven's face. He saw it seconds too late, though his foot only grazed him, Raven leaned away, grabbing Michael's leg in an attempt to trip him.

Skillfully, with his other foot, Michael kicked Raven in the chest, knocking him to the floor. Somehow, his head hadn't bounced off the concrete below, and he got up quickly, jumping back a few feet. They circled each other again.  
The fight continued for a while, neither really gaining the upperhand for long. Eventually, both of them panting and sweating, Henrietta put a stop to it and made them go outside to cool off.

As they stood outside, Raven glanced over at Michael, "Thanks man."

"No problem," he smiled.

And with that, they stood in silence until they started shivering, fall was fast approaching. They returned inside and Raven grabbed his hat and gloves from downstairs. Michael then took them each home, dawn was beginning to break by the time they had all been dropped off.  
As rarely happened any more, Raven fell almost right to sleep, and he slept hard.


	5. Dark Descends

Soon enough, summer was ending and in mere days, school would begin again. He generally didn't think about it much, he had money saved up though, since he couldn't really work very much with school work to do.  
He still hadn't spoken to Butters. He argued with himself about it pretty constantly. It was like he wanted to, but at the same time, he didn't. He hadn't dated at all since Wendy.  
Turns out, she's transgender, so the proper term now, is He and he goes by Wendyl now. Just like that time when Eric tried to be Erica so he could have his own bathroom. Wendyl actually made a long Facebook post about his new preferences and everything.  
He said he remembered and thought about that time pretty often. It felt right, a lot more so than it ever did being a female. He planned to start on hormones once he reached eighteen. Just to make absolutely sure, he wanted to legally be an adult. His mother was fine with it and her father..., well he was still adjusting. Everyone else, he said, that he'd told before making the post, was fine and supportive. He said he knew he'd probably lose some friends over it, but he wasn't concerned. He said he actually felt better, being himself openly.  
He gave the status a like, and sent him a PM, "I'm happy for you man. If you need it, I'll gladly bash anyone's face for you. I mean, I know we've drifted pretty fuckin' far apart, but I'll always be around if you need me."  
Although he was a little shocked about that message, he realized it was true. No matter what, Wendyl was his buddy. Sure he had different friends now, but Wendyl had been one of his best friends.

He leaned back in the computer chair, digging his cigarettes from his pocket and lighting one. He took a long drag, blowing the smoke up into the ceiling. He knew he should open a window, but he didn't feel like it yet.  
Clicking on the Youtube tab, he clicked a random song off the suggested songs before getting up and opening a window. While he was up, he wandered over to his incense burner and lit a new stick of Dragon's Blood before going back to the computer chair and flopping backwards.  
Disease by Hollywood Undead played as he sat there and thought.

Sometimes, he couldn't help but think truly dark thoughts. He stopped himself, opening a word doc before beginning to type, artistically arranging the thoughts into a beautifully dark new poem.

'No matter how hard we try,  
how hard we struggle;  
nothing really changes.  
It all stays the same,  
more or less.  
A small change here,  
a bigger change there.  
But isn't it the same overall?  
Just a different day.  
When you stop,  
Think.  
That's when you realize how none of it matters.  
Everything is the same,  
Deep down.  
The surface may change,  
But not the core.'

He saved that one before making a new document, the words to another poem already coming.

'That first person,  
the first one you love.  
They'll always have a part of your heart.  
No matter who you go on to love,  
that first person will always be in your heart.  
Your first love,  
It's pure.  
Especially when they love you back.  
You don't yet know heartbreak.  
So that love,  
it isn't tainted by past heartbreak,  
Because it is the first heartbreak.  
The most painful.'

He saved that one too before going to lay on his bed with his cigarette hanging loosely in his hand.  
Maybe..., maybe the reason he couldn't ask out Butters was because Wendyl still haunted his heart. Despite all the years that had passed. Despite eveyrthing that had been going on. Wendyl was still, his first love.  
He wanted Butters, he wanted to be with him. But really, he was petrified of having him and then..., losing him. Considering what losing Wendyl had caused, he didn't know if he could stand to have had Butters and lose him too. But fuck, he didn't even know if Butters would want him.

He sighed before taking another drag on his cigarette. There was just too much he didn't know. He hated it. He felt so..., powerless. All the time. It was like nothing he ever did, made any difference in anything.  
Lately, he was just so tired of everything. School, was just going to intensify that feeling. He still didnt know what to do about Butters. Relationships were lots of work. He could at least, if nothing else, go see if Butters would want to just hang out with him. Hang out for a few weeks, find out if they could at least be friends first. Then ig that went well, he could ask him out on a date.  
He sighed, it sounded like a good enough plan, in his head. However, he wasn't sure if he could go through with it.  
Finishing his cigarette, he sat up, placing the butt in the small black ash tray on his nightstand. His eyes lingered on the top drawer.

The darker part of his mind whispered to him, that it could give him clarity. That clarity he so desperately sought. A break from the listless. From the powerless. It would bring him release.  
It whispered sweetness to him. Sweet, sweet darkness. It called to him, hell it almost fucking sang. But then, Facebook made a noise at him, interrupting the song momentarily.  
It was a message from Wendyl.

"Hey. Thanks, It's been a while Raven. We should get together, talk a little. Face to face, you know?"

He reread the message a few times before replying, "Yeah. Sure, how does Tweek Bros sound?"

"Good, meet you there."

And so he turned everything off and found his iPod, stringing the cord down his shirt and beginning a new song, skipping through a few before finding one he felt like listening to that wasn't Hollywood Undead. He settled on 'All Your Hate' by Black Veil Brides. So with some purpose, he left his house, his mind somewhat clearer.


	6. Descending Further

The moment he laid eyes on Wendyl, 'If You Only Knew' by Shinedown began to play.  
A sad smile crossed his features for a breif moment, but he took in Wendyl's new look as he approached. He had cut his hair short, it was spiked up messily. He wore dark blue jeans and a tank top, his breasts, were nonexistant. He looked..., confident and happy.

"Hey," Raven greeted, taking a seat across from him.

"It's nice to see you again, I mean, outside of school." He began, his smile hadn't changed, Raven noticed.

"Yeah, it's been a while..., hasn't it?" He remarked with a crooked smile.

The other male nodded, his eyes roaming over Raven, no doubt searching for that boy he once knew.

"I guess, I should tell you something big and kind of important about me, since you know, you did the same," he took a deep breath before saying, "I'm gay."

The silence hung in the air, but it wasn't tense or anything, Wendyl was just thinking.  
"How many people have you told?"

"Only the goth kids, and well, Kenny knows," He shrugged, slightly uncomfortable still with others knowing since it was such a small town.

"Of course he would... But I'm glad for you," Wendyl smiled over at him.

And so, for the next few hours, they just sat and talked. Catching up with each other for the last eight years. Sure, they had a few classes together, but they never spoke any more. It was like they were getting to know each other all over again.  
Eventually, they came to the subject of his depression.

"Have you gone to a therapist for it?"

"No...," he sighed.

"You've worked, you should have money saved. You might even be able to go free, because your parents make so little," Wendyl advised.

His head fell into his hands.  
"I know. I know. I just..., I just feel like even if I went, nothing would change. You know me, I'm not good at this whole..., talking about feelings business. I'd rather just..., you know, let my fists do the talking," Raven had looked up during his miniature speech, his sleeve had fallen slightly, enough to reveal the pale skin beneath, the pale, crisscrossedly scarred skin.

Wendyl saw, he always had, and his eyes pierced Raven's.  
He just sighed, dropping his arms back under the table.

"What if..., what if I don't want to 'get better'?" He asked quietly, his eyes glued to the table.

The silence between them stretched, but Raven didn't lift his head.  
"Are you saying, you would rather die than live?" Wendyl eventually posed the question, his voice nearly cracking.

Raven took a deep, steadying breath before replying. "Yeah. That's what I'm saying. Because, all this," he guestered around to the coffee shop, them, just everything, "Is temporary. I've steadily felt worse and worse, for years. I have since realized, I do not want life. I want to die. I am tired of these feelings of nothingness and despair. I am so fucking tired."

He didn't realize it, but his eyes were leaking tears.  
Wendyl moved to sit with him, pushing him further into the booth, but his arms wrapped around Raven's larger frame as his eyes too, cascaded.

"God Raven, why didn't you say anything? You stupid..., stupid..., stupid boy," he cried as he held the taller boy to him.

He said nothing, knowing there was nothing he could say anyway.

Eventually, Wendyl held him at arm's length.  
"You can always, always talk to me. I don't care what time it is, if you need me, you fucking call me."

Raven weakly nodded, not daring to look at him.

"You fucking better," he growled.

"Y-you know, it's not very manly to cry," Raven weakly cracked a joke, a smile attmpeting and failing to form.

"Shut up," he shoved the other male before sliding out of the booth.

"I'm serious," he sobered, leaning on his hands upon the table.

"You're not alone Raven," he said quietly, his piercing gaze penetrating Raven's onyx colored eyes.

Raven looked down and away first, and Wendyl left without another word. The pale skinned teen stared at the tabletop, that familiar anger welling up inside of him. He was angry at himself, at Wendyl, at the world. He was just so fucking angry.  
It was useless anger, and just like that, it it drained away. Within minutes.  
Left, empty and just sad. Crushingly sad. Like always.

There wasn't any rage left. He barely had the energy to stand. But somehow, he did it.

Michael and the other goth kids were just entering as he moved to leave.

He looked passed them, unwilling to meet their gazes.  
"Hey, Raven, we texted you, but we never got any replies. We figured you were sleeping or something," Pete said with a slow smile in his direction.

"Sorry..., didn't notice it buzzing."

"So what were you doing here?" Firckle's accusatory tone was hot with anger.

"Talking with a really old friend," Raven replied, unfazed.

He still wasn't looking at them, just waiting to leave the building as they were currently blocking the entrace. Michael silenced Firckle with an icy glare, motioning to the others to move so Raven could get by.

"Text me later, I'm going to go take a nap."

"Will do," Michael called after him as the taller teen exited the coffee shop.  
The goth kids looked at each other, that was..., really unlike him.

Firckle stomped off however, as Henrietta stared off after her friend. Raven usually came to her if and when he actually wanted to talk. So, she was understandably worried, but she knew there was no use in pushing him.

Raven walked home, slipping further and further down. The darkness descending over him once more. It was like it welcomed him back almost. It was cold, in the dark, but he almost didn't notice. His mind his prison once more, he noticed very little on his way home.  
A blond teenager saw the darkly dressed teen, he even smiled and waved, but got no response. He was slightly crestfallen at this but he smiled again, thinking he probably hadn't heard him, he had some earbuds in his ears afterall. And so he went back to his shoddily built little clubhouse out of fallen sticks, his smile never leaving his face.


	7. Actions Taken

He returned home, going into his room, closing the blinds and removing his clothes until he was down to his boxers. There, he laid in his bed, gazing up at the ceiling.  
His knife was in the drawer beside him. There were at least two full or almost full pill bottles just across the hall, in the bathroom. There were ropes and ladders in the garage. He could borrow a gun from his uncle Jimbo.  
His thoughts seemed slow, as if he could literally count the seconds between them. Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl.  
It seemed, everything was laid out before him. All he would need to do, is go to his computer and rewrite his Suicide Note. Then do with his method of choice. Leaving the document open for whomever. A slow smile graced his face, but it did not touch his eyes.

He slowly sat up, the cold he felt barely registering. His face and eyes were utterly blank. He walked over to his computer and turned it on. Waiting with infinite patience for it to load up, the words coming to him with ease. He opened a word document and iTunes, turning it to Shinedown's "Through the Ghost".

'To whomever:

My name was Raven Marsh. Son of Randy and Sharon Marsh. Both of whom have outlived their son.  
This is simply how it has to be. I had to die, life was never something I wanted, and I have finally made my escape into Death's welcoming embrace.  
Maybe, once, I had wanted it. But I don't know. It was thrust upon me, as it is all of us.  
I was in pain for so long. And now, I've ended it. I can finally be at peace.

Raven Marsh'

He turned off the music, closing iTunes. He didn't spare the computer another look. He had chosen his method. He walked to the bathroom, not even bothering to see if anyone was around. He opened the mirror, to get to the medicine behind it. He took the two bottles of painkillers, and set them on his nightstand, before going downstairs where he filled himself a large glass of water before returning to his room. He closed the door to his room, unnoticably shivering due to the cold, yeah, summer was definitely ending.  
He unscrewed the cap of the less full bottle, dumping a good portion into his hand, he sipped a mouthfull of water before dropping the pills into his open mouth, his head laid back to make it easier. The first batch went down easy. As did the next three. He felt nothing at first. No surge of regret, no emotion.  
He was so close to freedom, he smiled. Raven finished the rest of the glass of water before laying down. It shouldn't be too long.  
He wasn't sure how long it took, but he tumbled into darkness.

The next thing he knew, was that something was wrong.  
For starters, he was alive, of that much he was sure. He could feel his body, but he felt strangely detached from it. His eyes felt extremely heavy.

Then he heard his mother's voice.  
"Will he- will he live?" She sounded fearful and as though she'd been crying.

So..., that meant she must have found him. Saved him, if one could call it that. Well fuck.  
He drifted out of consciousness.

When he regained his senses once more, he could open his eyes, and he did but not much. His mother was sitting in the chair beside his bed. She stirred and saw his eyes. She leaped from the chair and hugged him, her shoulders shaking.  
"Oh Raven," she cried, actually using his preferred name.

He rigidly sat there, feelings so, very betrayed.

"I..., I called your friends, they'll be here soon. As soon as I knew you would be all right, I called them. But..., but before they get here, we..., we need to talk."

She had straightened up, and was gazing at him as though she'd never seen him before.

"What about?" his voice was gruff, rough from disuse.

She looked away. "We've signed you up to see a therapist, it will most likely be one time a week, in Denver. Why..., why didn't you come to me?"

He said nothing, glaring at the wall opposite of her.

"You're still my son, Raven. I will always love you. No matter what."

"If you loved me, you would have let me die." His words were harsh, but he just felt so betrayed, he couldn't help it.  
His words cut her like a knife, and she let out a little sob, before leaving the room.

He sat in silence until his old friends piled into the room. Kenny, Cartman, and Kyle.  
Kenny looked sad, Kyle at a loss, and Cartman just looked unimpressed.

"So, you tried and failed, huh?" Cartman asked bluntly.

Kyle didn't even scold him for being insensitive, he just left the room without a word.  
Cartman rolled his eyes but left too, obviously having nothing more to say.

"I'm sorry, Raven." Kenny said, his blue eyes piercing Raven with such profound sadness, that he had to look away.

"Thanks man...," he muttered.

Kenny placed his hand on Raven's shoulder before he too, left the room.

Raven wasn't alone long. The goth kids piled into the room. Henrietta leading them. She rushed over, her make-up running down her face with her tears, but she hugged him tightly.

"Why?" Pete asked, staring at the floor.

Henrietta stepped back, moving to put an arm around Pete, who instead knocked her hand away and ran from the room. She went after him, leaving him with Michael and Firckle.

Michael was the first to speak.  
"Raven, man, I'm sorry."

A sad smile ghosted his features.  
"But isn't it just the best cosmic joke?"

Michael's words got caught in his throat, tears slowly began leaking from his eyes, and he also left the room.

Firckle was standing at the foot of his bed.  
"You... You know how I feel about you. Why..., why would you do this? You could have came to me. Y-you could have..., You didn't have to!"  
And with that, he too, burst into tears and ran from the room.

Raven just sighed, staring down at his legs. He was alone for a while, but all he could do, was curse his own existence. He hadn't wanted this. He had wanted to die, and that be the end of it. Of all of it.

"U-uh, hey," a nervous voice started from the doorway.

He looked up sharply, the anger evident on his face, but it softened immediately when he saw who it was. Butters.

"Uh, hey, hey Raven," he mumbled, stepping further into the room.

"Hey," he muttered quietly, lowering his gaze.

"I uh..., I'm sorry about all this. I..., I never knew. I..., I wish you woulda told me. C-cause you know, we used to be pals. I-I'd like to be your pal again, Raven."

He sighed.  
"Butters..."

"Y-yeah?"

"You came all this way, just to see if you could be my friend?"

"And to make sure you're okay!" he protested.

Raven laughed hollowly, his head in his hands.  
"Yeah Butters, we can be friends. Message me your number on FaceBook, and I'll text you as soon as I can."

"Oh uh, that's great!" He smiled.

Raven just nodded, slipping down into the bed.  
"I'm tired, will you let my mom and anyone else that's wanting to see me, that I'm going to bed?"

Butters nodded and left, leaving Raven alone.  
Finally alone, he cried, unable to believe he had failed. That's what hurt the most.

Two months passed, Raven and Butters texting and occasionally hanging out, he even opted to work with Butters in Science since the goth kids didn't have that class with him.  
Therapy wasn't going very well. It was like he'd told Wendyl, he wasn't good at talking. They were hesitant to prescribe him anything since he had tried to OD before.

He was sitting alone in his dark room, thinking of his knife. He pulled up his sleeve slowly, savoring the anticipation. Scars revealed, he reached with his other hand for his blade. He withdrew it from the drawer, bringing it to rest upon his pale, exposed wrist.  
He exhaled slowly, a smile coming to his lips. He was about to draw the blade down, when he was knocked over and the knife from his hand.

It took a moment, but he recognized who it was.  
Butters. He was actually atop him, straddling his waist, pinning his wrists beside his head.

"Raven!" he yelled, which was something Butters never did.

"Why?" he asked quietly, tears welling in his eyes.

Raven averted his eyes.

"No! No! You will tell me or I'm not moving!"

Raven was surprised, he'd never seen this dominating side of Butters before. Well, there were a few times when he was acting as "Professor Chaos".  
He sighed.  
"I just wanted to bleed a little."

"Why?" Butters repeated his quesiton.

"It feels good."

And then Butters was crying, his face buried into Raven's neck, his arms having wrapped around Raven. Raven was shocked, too shocked to really do anything at first. Here was Butters, the boy he had been crushing on, crying on top of him. Slowly, he was able to make himself wrap his arms around Butters.  
This..., this wasn't what he had wanted.  
He sighed, but held Butters as he continued to cry.


	8. Torn

Raven sat alone in his room once more.  
He hadn't spoken to Butters in days. Despite Butters' numerous attempts to talk to him.  
Sure, he had a friend in Butters. He had the goth kids. But none of that made him feel any better. He started drinking, alcoholically, he paid Craig who paid someone else to buy. Craig said nothing largely, just accepted payment, before moving on.  
He didn't drink anything terribly hard, but he did drink a considerable amomunt of what he did drink.

He hardly felt anything, after that day with Butters. He thought that maybe, Butters could be someone that helped him become happy, but then he dismissed the idea because he knew, deep within himself, that he would never truly be happy. He would never have that lasting happiness.  
Which was why, he had attempted.  
But he failed. There was no medicine in the bathroom now. Only the rest of his family knew where it was, he wasn't even permitted to take anything for headaches. He understood why, but it still seemed a futile effort on their part.  
Overall, nothing had changed, perhaps his resolve had been hardened. He'd have to try harder next time. Make it fucking work. He wasn't going to wake up again.

Before that though, he would have to ensure nothing could get in the way of his plans. It would likely take months, convince everyone he had gotten "better".

It was dark outside, and though he had been avoiding them along with everyone else, he knew the goth kids would be at Tweek Bros. And so, he got up, finding a pair of Tripp pants and dragging them on, adding a Hollywood Undead shirt to his torso, before finding socks and going downstairs. He was asked where he was off to and he said out. Randy wanted to push it, but Sharon shook her head at him.  
He left without another word.

On the walk, the words to a new poem came to him, he would hastily scrible it once he sat down.  
They were there, they didn't comment on his joining them. Just continued in their conversations. He wrote the new poem as Henrietta finished reading hers.

'When everything stops,  
when everything fades away,  
what's left but that one,  
simple thing?  
that one desire that never fades.  
Why try,  
if it never fades,  
always haunting through the days.  
In the ned,  
it's all you have.  
It's always been there,  
that haunting desire.  
Why fight it any longer?'

It was fitting, really, he knew they wanted to ask him why, and this..., this explained it so well...

They fell silent and it was his turn to speak and so he read what he had just written.

Michael was the first to speak.  
"I'm glad you're here."

Raven offered a thin smile, his pencil in hand once more as he wrote something else. This time, he'd let them read. He didn't feel like speaking.

'Feeling...,  
is overrated.  
What does it do...,  
but evenetually cause pain?  
Being numb,  
Immunity is granted.  
Feeling nothing...,  
is better than feeling pain when pain,  
is all you've known.'

Once the notebook came back to him, he didn't look up, doing some more writing.  
He laughed hollowly as he wrote this one.  
His friends shared worried looks but he paid them no mind.

'Feel the rot,  
Feel the decay.  
Tempt Death.  
Know you'll meet soon.  
Let the Darkness consume you,  
Enjoy it's welcoming embrace.'

He could tell their enjoyment was lessened, given what he had attempted. But really, he couldn't bring himself to care. It was as it had been in recent times, they understood, but only to an extent.  
He was darker than they, his depression was winning.

He knew his death would be soon. He wasn't going to fail again.  
The decision to spend as much time with Butters, had been made, and as he sat there, in the stretching silence with the goth kids, he sent Butters a text, telling him he'd see him later that day.

"Can we forget, what I tried to do? Go back to fucking normal?" Raven snapped suddenly, his glare piercing them.

Pete sighed, his eyes downcast as he said, "Raven..., we want to, but..., you fucking scared us. We.., we have this mutual love for you. Like you're one of us man, if you died..."

He trailed off, his eyes having welled with tears.

"If you died, we don't know what the fuck we would do. We fucking love you," Henrietta continued for him.

"Yeah," Firkcle sniffled, not looking at him either.

"It's like they said," Michael said quietly, "You're one of us. Without you..., it wouldn't be the same."

He wanted to sneer, to scoff at them, but he couldn't bring himself to. He saw the truth in their words, even if, he wanted to die, he didn't really wanto t abandon his friends like that. He knew though, that they still weren't reason enough to stay. No matter what they said.  
In the end, all he did was shake his head sadly, and bid them farewell, telling them to text him.

He walked back home, the moon bright in the sky.  
Death.  
It was what he wanted. It was inescapable.  
That desire would always be there. Sure, it could dampen, but it would always be there.  
He sighed, they just didn't get it. But then..., neither did he.

It wasn't just an end..., it was a new beginning.

He went to his room, and stripped to his boxers, sitting in front of his computer. He waited for it to load, opening iTunes when it did. He put "So what" by Three Days Grace on repeat.  
He laid on his bed, gazing at the ceiling. This song just made so much goddamn sense.

On one hand, he wanted Butters.  
But on the other, he wanted Death.

He had already failed once. He knew he could do it right though. More calculation. Careful planning. He could do it.  
But what about _Butters_?


	9. Plans

As the months passed, Raven seemed to be doing better.  
He and his therapist seemed to really be making progress, he was making plans for the future. Doing well in school. Hanging out with the goth kids and Butters.  
His smile even seemed easier.

None knew, however, that it was all merely an act.  
He was sitting at his computer, earbuds in his ears, blaring Disturbed as he wrote another new poem.

'If pain never fades,  
Darkness never lifts,  
and feeling never returns...,  
What's the point in anything?  
Wouldn't it make sense...,  
To let Death come?  
To let Death have what has already fled?  
Eternal peace,  
or for just a while,  
Nothingness...'

Nothing had changed.  
He had been planning. He knew how he would do it this time. He had a knife. A sharp one, new blade and all. He knew how and where to cut. He'd have already lost too much blood by the time he was found, even if he was found incredibly soon. He smiled, he had already picked a date too. Not much longer, he just had to get a few things in order, nothing red-flag type, he knew all of those. It wouldn't seem out of place for him to do these things. For all appearances, they would be completely normal. Only after the fact, would the truth be realized.

'I want,  
As I have always wanted.  
The means is simple,  
Doable.  
It will not fade.  
It is a certainty in a world,  
of uncertainity.  
A gift of the Fates,  
to allow my one wish to be granted.  
I am,  
Unafraid.'

He saved it and minimized the new document he made.

Butters was due over soon. Raven stood and stretched, going to take a quick shower before his friend came over.  
Freshly showered and dressed in skinnies and a black Nevermore shirt, Raven sat on his bed, a notebook in his lap. He began writing as he wrote, the words to something else coming to him.

'When do the faithful,  
become the faithless?  
The hopeful,  
the hopeless?  
When is it decided,  
that Death is the answer?  
Death, is the result of life.  
So why...,  
is there so much to fight it?  
You will live,  
only to die.'

He turned the page to a blank one as Butters poked his head in the doorway.  
"H-hi Raven."

"Hey Butters," he greeted with a smile.

Butters sat in Raven's computer chair, spinning it around so he faced the other teen.  
"Anything particular you wanted to do today?"

"Yeah, actually," Raven smiled, "I thought we could go to Stark's Pond."

"Iceskating?" Butters asked, it was, the middle of winter afterall.

"Nah, just some scenery," Raven laughed as he got up, going to find his coat, gloves, and hat.  
Butters followed him, putting his things back on.

They left without a word to his parents, the wind was biting a little more than usual today. The two walked quickly, talking little on the way.  
At last, they arrived at their destination.

"S-so uh what did we come out here for?" Butters asked, shivering slightly.

Raven smiled apologetically. "I didn't realize how cold it was today. But because, I have something to tell you and I didn't want my family to overhear anything."

"O-ooh," for a second, Butters looked scared, but he covered it quickly with a smile.  
Too bad Raven could read him so well, he didn't assuage his fears though, because..., the little blond was right, wasn't he?

"This is something long overdue," Raven started, his hands going into his pockets.  
"Though what I'm giving you, you're not to read it, until three days from today. Okay?"

Butters nodded, he would never do something like that. Which was why Raven had chosen him for this...

Raven handed him an envelope that simply said "Butters" in his slanting handwriting.

Butters put it in his coat pocket with a grin. "W-well, that's not all is it?"

Raven chuckled, "No, Butters, it's not."

"Oh good," he grinned.

"This..., this is what was overdue. Butters, I like you, in the way that through that simple liking, my feelings grew much deeper. And well.., you see, Butters, I love you."

Butters stood there, his cheeks aflame, as Raven's eyes fell down to stare at the snow covered ground.

"Y-you..., wait..., You're serious Raven?"

Raven took a deep breath, "Yeah Butters. I don't joke about such serious stuff."

"Oh..., all right then." And he fell silent once more.

As the silence stretched, Raven spoke, "It's all right if you don't feel like that towards me, I just thought I should tell you. I mean..., I had been pretty sure before, but a few events in more recent times, soldified my feelings."

Butters still didn't say anything and the silence stretched further.  
Raven sighed.  
He was getting cold, they needed to get home soon.

"C'mon Butters, we should get back to mine, or I can walk you to yours, it's up to you."

As Raven walked away, Butters joined him, they walked side by side back into town.  
They came to Butters' house.

"Raven..., I uh..., I like you a lot. I..., I dunno if it's love or anything like that, but I do know, I'd like to get closer to you," he said it haltingly, a blush coloring his cheeks as he slowly met Raven's eyes.

Raven smiled, "That's all I'd ask, more even."

Butters smiled at him.

"So do you want to go back to mine or do you have to go home?"

"Oh uh..., I have a few more hours until I have to go home."

Raven nodded extending a gloved hand to Butters. Blushing, the blond boy took his friend's hand and they continued down the street.

He didn't know what they were, but he knew it didn't matter. Part one of his plan, was now complete. Two more parts to go.  
After Butters went home, he went downstairs once more, this time heading to Tweek Bros.

He had a notebook in his backpack, he would have something to read to them.  
They greeted him warmly once he sat down with his coffee.

He smiled.

They began as he half-listened, he began writing something they could read.  
His first, was one he knew he couldn't share though...

'It is a reminder of the desire.  
Of the need.  
The want.  
To bleed.  
To feel.  
To see flesh torn asunder,  
never to be made whole again.  
To let the river of blood flow,  
and watch as the crimson red stains the floor.'

He sighed at his own darkness before he flipped to a clean page.  
'If Darkness can be experienced,  
So can Light.  
There is Darkness in Light,  
As there is Light in the Darkness.  
Choices are made,  
To decide which to follow.  
We can only live for the present,  
Taking the days as they come.  
Pain is not always everlasting,  
Is it?'

After his turn to read passed, they just talked among themselves, about school, the annoying Vampire kids that STILL plagued the school, how they still believed in Cthulu, though the South Park chapter of the cult had long been disbanded.  
So it was normal chatter between them. Raven made the effort to talk to each of them, even telling Firckle, finally, that he saw him as a younger brother, nothing more.  
Firckle seemed sad, but Raven suggested he look for another male, such as perhaps Dog or maybe even someone in his grade. Firckle just shrugged his shoulders.

He suggested Michael talk to someone about his anger problems, Denver was a bit of a drive, but the anger would eventually kill him. Michael said he knew, but he just didn't want to talk it out. Raven implored him to consider it.  
He talked to Pete about pursing his love interest in Kenny. He told him as much about his old best friend as he could think of, and Pete confessed he'd probably be too nervous to talk to him. Raven assured him Kenny was easy going, and that it'd be all right. When he talked to Henrietta, he told her how much she meant to him, how he loved her like a sister, he thanked her for always listening and trying to help him, even when he didn't want it. He even told her that he was kind of with someone now, but it wasn't entirely official yet. She smiled and congratulated him.

He smiled at them hours later, before bidding them farewell.

Later in the day, he would go speak with Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny. Most likely, seperately. It would be Monday, when Butters would read his letter, he realized. Monday..., he smiled with a shake of his head.

He returned to his room and went to sleep almost instantly, that smile still on his lips.

He got up around early afternoon. He rubbed sleep from his eyes, sitting up. With a sigh, he slid out of the bed and dressed in some baggy Tripps and a Breaking Benjamin shirt. He tugged his hat on before he went downstairs, fixing himself a breakfast shake before he took it with him to Kenny's.  
He knew it'd be easiest to start with him.

His mom waved him inside and he wandered to his friend's room.  
Kenny was sitting up, blinking tiredly.

"Hey," Kenny smiled.

"Hey," Raven echoed.

"You seem like you're doing better."

Raven nodded, "Yeah, and I wanted to tell you, how grateful I am to you, for being there. Cause even though, we haven't hung out really in the last six years, I..., well I just wanted to thank you, you know?"

Kenny nodded with a grin, getting off of his matress.

"I know you always refuse, but you don't get that option, I'm taking you to Benny's."

Kenny laughed but didn't argue, just told Raven to vacate the room unless he wanted to watch him get dressed. Raven obdiently, went to stand outside the room while his friend dressed himself for going outside. After breakfast, Raven told Kenny he was going to go see Kyle, to apologize to him for how things had dissolved. Kenny wished him luck, with a strange look on his face.  
Raven put it from his mind and began the walk to Kyle's house.

Kyle answered the door, he was still dressed in his pyjamas.  
"R-Raven?"

Raven nodded. "I was just coming to talk to you, to apologize for the last six years."

Kyle's expression became unreadable, but he moved aside, allowing Raven into the house.

They sat across from each other at the dining room table.  
"Like I said, I wanted to apologize. I..., never wanted it to get to the point where I didn't even talk to you guys, but you guys seemed happier, and I had my new friends, and I just..., the years just went by."

Kyle sighed at last. "I know what you mean. I guess, I'm sorry too. For not trying harder to talk to you and stuff. I was just really angry, for the longest time. I felt like you'd betrayed us, betrayed me. But really, you were just growing up faster and in a different way. I guess, I just thought, you know, that we'd always be best friends."

"Yeah... Even if we can't change the past, we can at least agree to move on. To..., try to make amends."

Kyle nodded.

Soon after, Raven bid him farewell, and went on to Cartman's.  
He answered the door, looking more awake than Kyle had.  
"The fuck do you want fag?"

Raven rolled his eyes.  
"I really don't know. You fat asshole."

"Ay!" he yelled.

And then they laughed.  
"See you around," Raven waved as he descended the driveway.

Everything except the last piece of his plan had been done. He returned home to wait.  
He laid awake, listening to music on his computer. It was almost time. It was past two in the morning, Monday. His house was starting to fall asleep. In the next hour, the final phase of his plan would commence. He smiled into the darkness.  
It was all going well.

He sat up in the bed, swinging his legs over the edge.  
His heartbeat was steady.  
He reached for the drawer of the nightstand beside his bed. Once opened, it revealed his knife. The blade shone softly in the moonlight that streamed into his room. He picked it up, gripping it tightly. He went into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him. He gazed at himself for a moment, in the mirror. His pale skin, pitch black hair, and his tired eyes. A smile graced his lips as he lifted the blade.

He had researched where he would have to cut, for it to end quickest. He didn't want to be "saved". He watched himself in the mirror, to make sure he hit his mark. He raised his arm, pressing the tip of the blade into one side of his cartoid artery. He extended his arm, then brought the blade back to the same spot. Some primal thing in his head, screamed of the wrongness of what he intended, but he paid it no heed. This was what he wanted.  
He extended his arm one last time. That smile upon his face once more. He plunged the knife fully into his neck, he felt like he needed to cough, but he held it back, instead, jerking his arm and the knife within his neck, tearing the skin apart as blood splattered the mirror, he dropped the knife, falling to his knees, and then facedown, to the floor. He could feel himself slipping away, and his smile never left. At first, it had hurt, but now, the adrenaline coursing through him and the rest of the blood gushing from his throat, he felt little. He closed his eyes, his last thought..., _Butters_.

* * *

Finally, he thought, it's Monday! I can open that letter from Raven. Happily, Butters grabbed the envelope from the nightstand and sat up to open and read the letter within.

It read:

' _Dear Butters,_

 _I love you. Really. You were that Light, among all the Darkness. I'lll quote you here buddy, "Well yeah and Im sad. But at the same time Im really happy that something can make me feel that sad. It's like it makes me feel alive you know? It makes me feel human. The only way I can feel this sad now is if I felt something really good before. So I have to take the bad with the good. So I guess what I'm feeling is like a beautiful sadness." Those words, haunted me. You could always see the best in every situation. I don't know how you did it. I never deserved anything from you, let alone your affection.  
You were everything I could never have. I really did love you. Just, remember that. And don't cry Butters. _

_I love you._

 _\- Raven_ '

"Wh-what?" he read the letter again, confused.

That's when he heard them. The sirens. Coming closer by the second. He ran to his window, almost tripping over his blankets. It was an ambulance and a police car. He threw clothes on, running downstairs and out of the house. He ran to Raven's house, which was now apparent that the sirens were heading there.  
Butters arrived as they were dragging out a stretcher, covered by a sheet. Tears welled in his eyes, he fell to his knees, Sharon, Randy, and Shelly were all crying as the paramedics did their jobs.  
"No...," he whispered softly, yet the tears did not fall.  
Raven had told him not to cry...


End file.
